


All Fall Down

by Evilchuckles



Series: Miss Gingerpaws Series [1]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Humour, M/M, Near is Autistic, Post Manga, Romance, Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evilchuckles/pseuds/Evilchuckles





	All Fall Down

Near is very good at his job.

Near is so good at his job that he is slightly terrifying.

Near is a genius.

He is also a moron.

 

Gevanni started turning up at Near’s apartment in the evenings, with ever more manufactured excuses (‘I thought I saw someone evil climbing up the fire escape’ was a classic example) and then staying for hours, sometimes ordering pizza and suggesting a DVD. Near did not object to this, though bemused at first, because he understood that it was healthy and appropriate to socialise with one’s peers. He had put some calm thought into it when Gevanni started indicating a desire for friendship and then Near read some psychology texts and concluded that, as L, it would be wise to have some social outlets in order to observe human interactions, otherwise his professional assessments of other human beings would suffer in their accuracy. ‘Yes,’ Near had nodded to himself, ‘I must not forget. Not every criminal I will pursue will work from a position of logic, as Yugami did. So I should be well informed about all kinds of people. That requires that I socialise. Yes. That would be sensible, not to mention normal.’

Near failed to see that there was nothing normal in thinking of his social life, of his one friend, in this way.

Instead he would greet Gevanni at the door and let him in. Then they would sit on the sofa and watch TV or play cards. Sometimes Near would have exactly three quarters of a glass of Scotch. (He had found that to be the optimum amount for relaxation without inebriation.) They would talk about work. Or books. 

Usually it was very satisfactory. It made a refreshing change now and then, allowing Near to turn his mind to other things. Often he found that when he returned his thoughts to work, after Gevanni left, he had worked something important out about a case, subconsciously, during the evening. 

Yes, on the whole, it was going well.

 

It was going terribly. Gevanni was at the end of his rope. No matter what he did he couldn’t seem to break through to the human being who _surely_ lay somewhere inside Near’s achingly beautiful, androgynous, and _cold_ exterior. Gevanni had thought that spending free time together might inspire Near to open up, maybe show some emotion other than criminal-induced anger (the only crack in the facade that Gevanni had yet seen). Gevanni had thought that even Near couldn’t be so switched off to himself and his body as to not notice the way that Gevanni knew, humiliatingly, he often looked at him.

Sometimes Gevanni felt as though he had, “Near, I want you so much it makes my soul bleed” stamped on his forehead. 

How could Near be such a breathtaking genius and yet not see this?

Gevanni was starting to worry that Near was...broken. 

Maybe there was nothing inside but intellect.

Near glanced thoughtfully at Gevanni, as the credits rolled. It hadn’t been a very good movie (Near had counted no less than fourteen plot holes and had figured out the surprise twist ending in under ten minutes) so perhaps that was why Gevanni wasn’t smiling. Usually Gevanni smiled a lot when they met like this. But tonight he was more like his work self, grim and stoic. While Near appreciated and valued Gevanni’s work self (had more than once relied on it, in fact, to save Gevanni when Near had been sadly forced to put the man’s life in danger in pursuit of justice) it was not the right persona for an evening of recreation. Usually by now Gevanni was teasing him about his alphabetically arranged toys or asking strange but interesting questions. Such as ‘if you could be anyone else, who would you be?’ Or, ‘Is it terrible to be so clever? I think I would be lonely if I had no equals.’ Near always considered the questions and tried to answer honestly. 

It was pleasant.

But tonight, Gevanni was unhappy.

Yes, Near realised, clearly something was wrong.

“Please tell me what the matter is?” Near asked, turning to face Gevanni, cross legged and bare foot on the sofa. 

Outside the sky sparkled with stars. It was winter and very cold but Near never closed the curtains to keep the warmth in. He was too high in the building to need to worry about privacy and he liked to see the stars. 

“How do you know something is the matter?” Gevanni demanded.

They had been socialising for many months now and Near had allowed a relaxation in formality. 

“You do not smile and you are not talking. This is unlike you.”

Gevanni sighed and tilted his head back against the sofa cushions. He gazed for some time at the ceiling. Near glanced up curiously for a moment but there was nothing there to draw Gevanni’s attention. 

Near waited patiently.

“What else do you do to relax, Near?” Gevanni asked, at last.

“I read. I enjoy making models and doing puzzles and playing games. You know this.”

Gevanni shook his head irritably. “No, I mean, things outside of intellect. Frivolous things.”

“Some would argue that the models and puzzles and games _are_ frivolous, in a man of twenty-two.” 

“Not the way you play them!” Gevanni snorted.

Near found himself smiling. He had noticed that he did that more with Gevanni than with anyone and he occasionally wondered about that. 

“What about girls?” Gevanni insisted. “You’re a human, aren’t you? You want normal, human things. Do you meet girls?”

Near stared at Gevanni. Stared and felt....a thing...in his mind uncoil.

“Or...boys?” Gevanni added, quietly, looking right at Near now. 

Near said nothing. He noticed that his heart had quickened. What an odd response to a simple question. It made the...thing...start to whisper. 

This was unacceptable. Near had settled this, long ago, and the _thing_ had accepted it’s fate. It wasn’t wanted, wasn’t useful. Near had boxed it up like a model plane kit with an important missing part, and stored it away where it couldn’t hurt him.

“Near...I always wanted to know. And I’ve had too much Scotch and it’s been months and I’m not sleeping well lately, thinking about....well, anyway. I want to know. You and...Mello. Were you,”

The thing screamed.

Near stood up, walked over to the door and held it open. “You will go now.” He said, distantly pleased that his voice betrayed none of the panic and noise and pain inside his chest.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, it had happened before when Gevanni asked how Near lived with some of the decisions that he had made, and Gevanni had meekly left the apartment as ordered and they had never said another word about it. By the time Gevanni had tentatively suggested another evening together Near had things back under control and was able to sincerely act as though nothing had occurred.

But this time it was much worse, because of the name which had fallen out of Gevanni’s mouth.

And Gevanni wasn’t leaving.

He stood up from the sofa, swaying almost imperceptibly from Scotch, and crossed his arms. Near set his jaw. His subordinate had forgotten his place. Perhaps these social experiments had been a mistake.

“You grew up with him.” Gevanni ploughed on, brutally, “he must have been an important part of your life, for good or ill, and he certainly displayed strong emotion towards you when you met during the investigation. Everybody assumed that you two...And then he died and you...said nothing. Did nothing.”

Near struggled to put the screaming in his mind to one side while his voice managed, “You are behaving very strangely. You seem angry but I don’t see why.”

Gevanni bit his lip and looked at the floor. “I suppose...I suppose people crack up a bit when they start to see the truth and it isn’t what they hoped it would be.”

“And what truth is that?” Near felt sweat trickle down into the hollow at the base of his spine.

Mello had kissed him there once.

And laughed.

Gevanni had deflated. He sighed and went to get his coat from the stand. It was next to where Near was bracing himself against the wall, fighting a silent, internal battle that he knew he would win but which was getting bloodier every time. He craved peace, the loss of feeling. Most of the time he achieved it. But it took work.

Gevanni, coat on, was stood in front of Near. Near looked at him. Gevanni was handsome. Near had often noticed that. He noticed it now, despite the raging within. 

Near never stopped observing.

“I’m sorry, Near.” Gevanni told him, softly, shame colouring his cheeks, “I shouldn’t have mentioned him. I had no right.”

“No.”

“It’s just...Near. Are you even a person? I mean, do you have feelings? Wants? Desires and fears like everyone else? Or were you born to be L? Designed for it? With nothing wasted?” Gevanni looked and spoke as though he had thought about this many, many times.

Near swallowed. It was rising up. He could feel it. He was losing the battle. Terror began to pile up against his careful mental world. And guilt and grief and loneliness. All the emotions he had put on ice during the Kira investigation and then kept there because it was easier.

Except that it wasn’t easier. It had been a big mistake. Left him vulnerable to just this kind of experience.

Incipient break down, on a hair trigger.

“Gevanni...” He started, then he was sliding, sliding, down the wall and landing in a heap at Gevanni’s feet. 

“Near!” At once Gevanni was on his knees and pulling Near into his arms and holding him tight. “God, I’m sorry, I had no idea. This is my fault. I’m so sorry!”

Near could barely hear him over the roar.

 

Once L, the real L, had sat Near down at Wammy’s and said, “Near. I worry about you.”

An eight year old Near had said, “Why? I’m going to be everything you want me to be. I’m going to make you proud.”

“Not about that.” L had said, absentmindedly fishing a boiled sweet out of his pocket and giving it to him. “But you do understand don’t you? There are other things in life, apart from fighting crime and thinking and plotting? There are emotions too.”

“I have emotions.” Near assured him, sucking furiously on the sweet. “But they get in the way.” Mello gave him emotions. Lots of them. Near didn’t like Mello. Mello was annoying. Mello was like a star exploding everywhere. 

“Nevertheless, you have to feel things. Even bad things. It’s OK to put it off if you need to concentrate, if you need to focus. But eventually you have to feel them.”

Near had looked at L, dubious.

He liked L’s eyes.

“I don’t want to scare you, Near but do you know what happened to the L before me?”

Near shook his head.

L put a hand on Near’s head, gently. “He went mad.”

 

Near remembered this conversation now as he shuddered on the floor of his hallway and Gevanni frantically apologised.

L had been Near’s hero. He was still his hero. 

Near knew that he should have listened to L, because he was right.

You had to feel it eventually or you stopped being a person.

Gevanni was right.

And L was dead and Mello was dead and once they had all gone out to see a meteor shower on the roof of the school and Mello had been laughing and stood, right on the edge, arms flung wide, defying God’s cosmos even as it burned above him and Mello was dead.

And Near hadn’t let himself...couldn’t bring himself to...

Mello, who, before the rivalry began to consume them, had kissed Near one night and touched him and made Near feel things that tasted of spring and chocolate and reluctant hope. It had been mostly innocent but Near had always thought, even after Mello went away, that one day they would have some stolen time together and that then it wouldn’t be so innocent.

But Mello was dead before that could happen.

And L was already dead even before that.

L...

Mello...

The world stuttered.

 

Near woke to raw eyes and a desire to brush his teeth. He thought maybe he had dreamed of chocolate.

Turning to his alarm clock on the other side of the bed he stopped, shocked, when he saw Gevanni there. Sleeping. 

Then Near remembered. He remembered the tumble down with the screeching and tearing inside his head. He remembered Gevanni taking him to bed and holding him tight and whispering comforting nonsense for hours and hours. Until Near had finally fallen asleep.

Near took a shaky breath. 

The _thing_ hadn’t gone but it had transformed. Now, instead of a dangerous monster locked up in his head, it was an ordinary, horrible, excruciating grief that was spreading out in Near’s soul. It was something he would have to endure and maybe, every day, it would get a little smaller until he could think about Mello and L without screaming inside. Until he could remember them and smile.

But that day was far in the future. 

Gevanni stirred and Near found himself curling up next to him, pulling an arm over him, acting with no real conscious thought except, ‘Gevanni...warm...safe.’

“I’m sorry, Near. I’m so sorry.” Gevanni whispered, sleepily. “Are you OK?”

“No.” Near told him, burying his face in Gevanni’s neck. “But that’s a good thing.”


End file.
